Ordinance
by jobsisdead
Summary: A decade after being decommissioned from the KND, the group is gathered again to form a guerrilla unit to battle enemies, old and new.


Chapter One

Nigel gave me a startled look when I shoved the pistol into his hand while I took another magazine from my back pocket and replaced the empty one in my C15. "Shit's changed, Uno," I said, keeping my head low to avoid the cascade of bullets that were just inches above me. As I peeked around the edge of the counter to get a glimpse on what the situation was, I added, "We don't just shoot gum balls anymore. Can't. The way of war grow up with us."

When I noticed he was fumbling with the damn Glock, I took it from him and took the safety off, shoving it back into his hands. "There. The guns hot now. Don't point the mother fucker at anything you don't intend to shoot."

I took a glass bottle from out of my pack and shook the contents quickly, setting it down next to me so that I could reach into the pack again to pick out a ripped piece of cloth and a small, yellow bottle of lighter fluid. Tying the cloth fragment to the neck of the bottle, I explained to Nigel in broken sentences what it was in between flinches from bullets landed particularly close to my damn head.

"Molotov cocktail," I said. "Glass bottle filled with gasoline and a thickening agent!" I paused as another bullet pounded through the counter that separated us and impacted with the wall, sending splinters everywhere. "This one is high octane gas and Styrofoam. It's a really liquid-y napalm!" I squirted some lighter fluid onto the rag and lit it with my Bic, waiting a moment before leaning past the counter and chucking it as hard as I could in the middle of the crowd of assailants.

The Molotov hit the ground and the bottle broke, a sudden mushroom cloud of flame enveloping everything as a liquid flame stretch across the tile floor. Three of the guys shooting at us got the napalm on them and dropped their guns immediately, screaming and taking huge steps back. One guy actually fell and got even more of the stuff on him, pretty much reducing him to a shouting and pulsating ball of flame. The rest of the group stopped firing and went to help the three guys on fire, dragging the guy who was really, really, _really _on fire away, leaving a twin trail of flame behind, which, not gonna lie, looked really cool.

I popped up from behind the counter and began to fire at the relatively defenseless group. One of the guys helping the Human Torch switched his grip so that he could return fire with his own weapon, but he was just firing blind, suppressive fire that actually was aimed nowhere near me.

Once they were out of sight, I sighed and laid my rifle on the counter, leaning on it. I took a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one, looking at the former leader of Sector V and shaking my head. "A little help would've have been fine," I sighed, exhaling a cloud of thin smoke. "You lost your edge, man."

Nigel raised his hands in protest, but I grabbed his wrist and twisted it so that he would release his grip on the pistol. "Don't fucking wave that shit around-"

There were two gun shots and I ducked and moved towards Nigel, taking a look to see where the rounds came from. One of the guys had returned, standing slightly behind a wall for cover. I emptied the clip shooting at him, three rounds hitting him in the upper chest, once in the neck, and once right below the eye. He fell, shooting off a final round as he fell.

Ejecting the magazine and slamming in a new one, I slowly creeped along the wall until I reached the doorway, peeking around it to find that the van the squad had arrived in was squealing its tires as it sped away. I sighed and put the pistol into its holster, reaching down to grab the dead guys G36. I put it on safety and tossed it to Nigel, who caught it and fumbled for a second before dropping it.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the guys wallet and stuffed it into my back pocket. Taking quick steps, I grabbed Nigel by his collar as he dipped down and grabbed the rifle, grabbing my own off the counter and hustling both of us towards the back of the bar. Moving through the kitchen, we found the exit and walked out into the purple and orange setting sun.

"Seriously, dude, get your ass into gear!" I said, tossing him forward as we hurried towards my car. Opening the trunk, I took the rifle from his hands and tossed it in as well as my pack and my own rifle. Grabbing a small lump of what looked like grey modeling clay, I instructed Nigel to get into the passenger seat.

"Why would I go with you after-" he started, but I found myself having to interrupt him once again.

"Listen. I know that right now this entire situation looks like a shit sandwich without the bread, but if you don't get into that motherfucking passenger seat, I'm gonna sodomize you with the barrel of that C15 before pulling the trigger." I shoved him and began to walk away before turning back and adding, "And if you're not in there when I get back, I'm gonna hunt you down and you're parent's are gonna have to call up Dr. So-and-So to get dental records to verify that, yes, that is indeed you're body missing a face in the bottom of the river."

Taking a deep breath to center myself, I rushed back into the bar, finding the office faster than I expected. There was a black box that held what looked like a high tech DVD player, and that's what I laid the plastic explosive on, inserting a remote detonator into it before sprinting out of the building, the sound of sirens getting closer and closer. Thankfully for Nigel, he was still in the passenger seat when I hopped into the car and exited the parking lot calmly, joining the high traffic of the highway just as the squad cars began to pile into the drive way, the officers exiting quickly with guns drawn and shouting orders at an empty building. Less than ten seconds later, there was a muffled explosion, and you could tell, even as the figures got tinier and tinier in the rearview, the cops were calling in backup, the SWAT team, and the bomb squad.

I relaxed in my seat, driving just a few miles an hour above the speed limit. About two minutes of silence later, as I was pulling onto the exit that lead to base, Nigel asked, "So…what the fuck is going on?"

I chuckled, lighting another cigarette. "Once upon a time, Nigel, you were the leader of the high trained group of operatives of Sector V."

Nigel was taken aback for a moment. "What, like the CIA?"

I let out a barkish laugh at this. "Try the KND."

"The KND?"

"The Kids Next Door."

Uno nodded, then started to unbuckle his seatbelt. "All right, that's all I needed to hear. You can let me out right here."

I rolled my eyes and smacked the dude on the chest. "Oh, come on, you were never this much of a pussy." As he began to protest, I continued. "You're code name was 'Numbuh 1', and you led four other kids along with you on adventures to stop adult tyranny."

"This is starting to sound cartoony."

"Bitch, does this look like a cartoon?" I demanded. "Listen, motherfucker, you are gonna have to fucking deal with the fact that you have a past that you don't remember. At least take some comfort in the fact that what you don't remember isn't the raping and murders of twelve innocent school girls and a two kittens."

He looked out the window and didn't speak the rest of the ride back to base. As I pulled into the drive way, he looked forward and made a face.

"Oh, come on, dude, it's not that bad," I said, unbuckling my seat belt and stepping out of the car.

Our base was a rented house that had four rooms and a basement. Me and Hoagie had recently repainted the siding an almost military color grey, but neglected to do the trim, resulting in a grey house that had many light blue lines in it. The garage also didn't get a paint job, and had a peeling, off-white color to it due to it's aging paint.

"Let's go. You're about to have a reunion." I said, leading him up to the door.


End file.
